


This Is Gospel

by orphan_account



Series: This is Gospel [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel and his friends start just another boring year of high school.<br/>Dean and Sam start at just another lame excuse for a new school.<br/>As their stories intertwine, these kids change each other in ways which they never could have foreseen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. String Quartet No. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel goes for a run, we meet the Miltons, and there is a Russian proverb.

6:00 in the morning. August 19. It’s hot as hell. A dark haired, square jawed boy named Castiel quietly wakes up without an alarm. He gently slips on some running clothes, and gulps down a cup of cold coffee. Nobody, not even his protective sister, Anna wakes up as he steps out of his house and into the morning.

Usually he doesn't run with music, he prefers to use the running as a type of fast-paced meditation. Today is different. Today he needs the noise. In a few hours, he'll be dragging his body back to the government-beige, boring public school. It’s boring and smelly and mediocre. More importantly, Castiel hates it. More important still, Philip Glass scores are filling his ears and his head, attempting to block out the messes of the outside world.

He lets himself drift in the run. He can feel the muscles in his legs and back ripple with each step, but his mind is increasingly blank. 

Wayton, Kansas is a small village, sitting in the plains about an hours drive northwest of Lawrence. Running in it is a series of twists and turns around the few, small blocks.

The brick school sits on one side of the town, at the bottom of the hill. The monstrosity of the Milton house sits on the opposite side of town, on the top of the hill looking down into the small village. Castiel runs as far as he can up and down streets, avoiding getting to close to the brick school, or the huge white house.

He compromises his usual good-form for a few seconds to turn his head into the growing sunlight. The soft orange glow fills in the spaces around his closed eyes and runs down his cheeks. Everything is perfect, he is flying...if only for a moment. He’s caught up in this moment, he feels simply free and pure. He continues to wallow in the spreading sunlight as he loops up and down the streets.

An hour later, a sweaty, panting, and euphoric Castiel steps over the concrete stairs that lead up to the porch of the Milton household. It's a big enough house. It consists of a large main floor that is kept plain and socially inviting, an upstairs that consists of four once-full bedrooms. The basement has been finished and is space for a recreation room and what was once Gabriel's room. When Gabe left, they started using his space for storage, yet Anna insisted that her brother's belongings remained, lest he ever need to come back home.

~~ 

The Milton situation was over complicated and messy at best.

Castiel was one of many siblings in a family that was more like a house full of arguing friends than a real functional family.

The Miltons were one of those couples that makes it a personal goal to have a lot of children, but raise none of them. Gabriel always noted the incredible irony of them adopting Raphael and Uriel when they couldn’t even take care of their own kids. He also got a kick out of them managing to adopt the “Only other kids on Earth with angel-names.” As much as Gabe complained about his parents and their self-induced overwhelming family, he loves his siblings. Castiel constantly had to remind himself of that.

However, the full house that Cas had grown up with, had emptied out over the years.

Balthazar left for England when Cas was 9. The next eldest Miltons, Michael and Lucifer, graduated when Castiel was 11. Lucifer eagerly left the house and is, as far as they know, in jail in California. Michael chose to go north to Minnesota, and would occasionally remember a Christmas card or birthday. Gabriel dropped out of high-school at 16 and works in casinos in Nevada. Raphael Milton left for business school in May. Castiel and Anna are fraternal twins and now 17 and seniors. Uriel is two years younger than the twins and attends a bigger public school about 30 miles away. Finally, Samandrial is the youngest.

The Milton patriarch left before Castiel was in Middle School, and Naomi Milton didn't treat the family house as a home, as much as a temporary stop between business trips. That leaves Anna. She had the burden of taking care of both her younger and older siblings.

The house felt strikingly empty now. The feeling has been swelling since Castiel was young, but, after Gabriel left, the once warm aura of the house was gone. 

However, one thing had not changed. Despite the dwindling number of people at the house, it could still be really loud. 

~~

As the cool air runs over his body, Samandrial and Uriel are running around doing what could be an apocalyptic version of school preparation. The boys chase each other up the stairs yelling difficult to understand but undeniably rude things. Anna walks out of the kitchen and smiles at her twin before yelling after Samandrial "You need to put on pants to go to school!!" Cas smiles warmly at Anna before running down to the shower.

If this house is hell, the first day of a school morning is the seventh circle. Four teens ready themselves for high school (or Junior high, moment of silence for poor Samandrial). Cas rushes through the shower, guzzles another cup of coffee and rushes upstairs to his (and once Balthazar's) room.

The room doesn’t really look special, but it fits Castiel’s needs. The walls are painted white to match the rest of the house, and the only decorations are photos and sticky notes depicting various notes and quotations. A single twin bed takes up the center of the room, a desk is along one wall, a small dresser next to it, and the rest of the room is covered in bookshelves and piles of various things.

Castiel is a connoisseur of sorts, a collector of religion and studier of language. He has artifacts from an array of regions and eras, piled high on top of shelves, some on the floor (including a large, stone figure of Gautama Buddha that is WAY too heavy to be put anywhere else).

His room looks more like a museum or scene from The Mummy than a teenage refuge, but that’s how Cas likes it.

He opts for a pair of dark jeans, plain black boots, and a dark-blue shirt for his last-first day. Cas glances at the mirror at his hopelessly messy hair and too-broad shoulders.

He never really thinks of himself as attractive nor extremely homely. He is mostly just another person who watches too little television and drinks too much coffee. As far as the boy’s concerned, he’s a mind in a meat-suit. He cares more about practicality than actual aesthetic.

“Cas, I’m leaving. Don’t be late!” Anna’s voice yells up the stairs shortly followed by the thud of the huge front door.

He is alone to think. Castiel is constantly writing things down. He loves sticky notes and small notebooks that can house his thoughts and findings. He learned long ago that it’s a healthy alternative to all those thoughts and worries filling his eyes and clogging his perception.

Right now, he picks up a dry-erase marker and writes on his mirror “Будь что будет.”

“Be what will be.”

He quietly grabs the notebook-filled Thule backpack and rushes out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here, my longest and most complicated fic!
> 
> Things to anticipate: swearing, waiting, Fall Out Boy, cuddling, probably more swearing to be honest. 
> 
> I am on le Tumblr: goingtofall.
> 
> I love trying to improve my writing/creative process. Meaning that I appreciate comments, kudos, tumblr messages, whatever. 
> 
> Thanks! I can't wait until this little monster blooms into something more!


	2. The First Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which:  
> Castiel goes to school.  
> Meg is a strange person.  
> The new kid is cute.

The locker squeaks as it opens...typical.

It still beats last year's locker that left all his books smelling like marijuana and shoes.

Castiel jog-walked to school. He usually doesn't rush the painfully inevitable, but being late on a first day is frowned upon.

The orientation was a wasted hour and a half of “Nice to see your smiling faces.” and “Can’t wait to start a new year.”

After that special brand of torture, the seniors had an additional two hours of tedious class meeting, class-flower choosing, planning, and class president electing. Castiel spends the entirety of it in silence as Meg makes rude comments to Lily and Ruby. Finally, near the end of the morning, they were freed from the gym. Cas practically sprints to his locker, anxious to finally be free.

"Hello, Clarence. My locker's 22, I guess that makes us neighbors. How romantic." A smoky voice purrs behind him.

Meg stands five foot maybe 1 inch. Her hair changes color with her mood (actually Castiel’s mood, since he usually winds up dying it for her), and she has an attitude that would scare the shoes off of satan....she also happens to be a good friend...or a level 3 comfortable acquaintance...something like that.

Castiel and Meg's friendship started as an attempt at a date. Okay, they awkwardly attended one homecoming dance together freshman year. Meg really didn't ask Castiel, so much as told him to go out with her. Throughout the entire dance, however, Castiel stood there like a blue-eyed statue, trying not to make things really awkward for Meg. She was...interesting, it's just that he really didn't do the dating...thing. Instead of being offended by the boy's nerdy behavior, Meg just rolled her eyes and flirted at the statue the whole night. By the end of the "date" Castiel had cracked 2 smiles and the pair began to do, what most might call, a relationship. Meg's hopes for a sexual relationship were crushed, but they both had gained a friend.

After the event, both questioned why they had even attempted making the dance a romantic venture. Castiel was...how did she put it? "Totally boring, but in a gay way." and Meg "Hates the poetry." Meg was kind enough to offer to act as Castiel's fake lover if the circumstances ever arose. (Which earned her an annoyed eye roll.)

Meg had never explicitly told him that she doesn't feel romance. Cas had never vocalized his lack of sexuality. However, both knew and understood the other's situation, and didn't push the matter.

Three years later, after a couple of fake dates, and lots of pointless flirtation, the two were a bizarre pair...fairly good friends who could (much to Meg's pride) probably star in their own sitcom. Meg did run around a bit with a couple of other kids, but Cas didn't really have friends other than her. 

"Have you been running again, Cassie? You look as lean and fuckable as ever."

"Running actually has little effect on body composition."

"With talk like that I’m a wonder how no one jumped your bones." She replies, sarcastically.

"You are vulgar." It's truly amazing how Meg's crassness can always make Cas smile...or blush. Right now the two reactions are intertwined.

Castiel returns to the tedious task of making the generic locker his. He isn't a particularly decorative individual, but the act of putting his own supplies and books into the locker somehow makes the metal box more comfortable.

Meg doesn't even open her locker. She just stands there, glaring at people as they walk by as if they are personally offending her with their existences.

"Only nine more months of this shit. Can you believe it? After that, we can do whatever we want. _That_ is heaven, Clarence."

"You do whatever you want anyway."

"Can't you let me revel in this for a few seconds, sourpuss?" Meg says as she leans against the locker dramatically.

"You are a unique individual."

Meg elbows him "Zip it, angel, and walk me to class."

“Did you ever look at a schedule to figure out which class you’re going to?” Castiel asks with a small dose of legitimate concern.

“I like to keep myself guessing.” She says with a cat-like grin. 

Castiel begins walking to his next class with Meg a few steps behind.

 

The school is small. The locker-lined halls form a large square with the gym and weight room at the center and classrooms lining the sides. Meaning that if students were well known for just going around the long way instead of working up the energy to turn around. This resulted in an entire student body acting as a one-way school of tired fish.

The pair walked into Metatron’s class. Mr. Metatron is an overweight, grey, 50 something year old. He was also the grouchiest man to ever walk the Earth. Fortunately enough for the simple-minded, he smiled as he insulted you and laughed as he made his students miserable. He seemed kind until you actually pay attention to what he is saying and doing.

He also taught physics, succeeding in making it, by far, the most boring and painful class of the day.

Castiel steps into the room just ahead of Meg. The bell is still ringing as they step in.

It’s a normal classroom with white-tiled ceilings, rows of rusty desks, and a front wall covered with a long dry-erase board. The back and one side wall of Metatron’s classroom is lined with books about everything from string-theory to the homoerotic subtexts of Sherlock Holmes.

Unfortunately, the rest of the class is already seated, and Mr. Metatron decides to point out their near-tardiness.

“Get in here, lovebirds. Take a seat.” He says dryly from the over-sized desk at the front of the room.

Meg and Cas don’t even bother trying to correct him. Castiel’s expression remains calm while he walks toward an empty desk; Metatron sees this and grins in success at making the kids uncomfortable. Upon noticing this, Meg flashes him a murderous grin.

Cas winds up sitting in the middle of the room in a desk that creaks every time he moves. After he is seated and his bag is tucked by his feet, Castiel looks around the room.

There are a dozen familiar faces, faces of the same kids he’s been in school with since forever. However, two desks to his right, is a new face.

The boy is freckled, a little taller than Cas, and absolutely beautiful. His short, dirty-blond hair is styled into a spiky point in the front, and he’s wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans. New kids are always a rare and precious breed in a small town. An attractive new kid, unfortunately, tends to become a play-thing.

The boy looks over and catches Castiel’s gaze. His previously bored expression changes to a friendly smile, before he turns back around. Castiel swallows back his embarrassment, and decides to focus on this torture of a class.

It isn't like Castiel to develop crushes easily. Somehow, and much to his embarrassment, Cas quickly finds himself wondering what kind of hair product the boy uses. _What does it smell like?_ There is a strange and unidentifiable element of grace in the new kid. There is something interesting about him, and Castiel can't help but wonder about the millions of tiny details that make up the kid.  

Metatron is now standing in front of the large dry-erase board. He writes his name in huge, all-caps. As soon as the “Meta” is on the board, a loud snort erupts from the class.

Cas turns to find that this new kid is openly giggling at Metatron’s name. A sin punishable by detention and public humiliation.

Metatron glares at the giggling kid.

“What, dare I ask, is so funny?” Metatron asks.

“You’re named after a Transformer, dude.” The kid replies.

“As if I haven’t heard that one before.” The teacher huffs, setting down his marker. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class, since you seem so keen to attract attention.”

The boy stands up, never looking away from Metatron.

“My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women. My asshole of a father dragged me here. If it weren’t for that, trust me, I wouldn’t even give a damn that you exist.” Dean winks at the teacher

Dean sits down then, looking strikingly proud of himself. _Great, he's cute and loud,_ Cas thinks _._ Immediately the remainder of the class tenses, wallowing in this new string of drama.

 Metatron sighs, letting him off for now. 

The rest of the period consists of an unspoken contest between the class and teacher on who can be the most bored. Castiel catches himself looking over to Dean a few times. He notices that Dean is wearing an interesting necklace with a curious head-like amulet. After a particularly long staring-session, Dean looks up and straight into Castiel's eyes. Dean has the greenest eyes that Castiel has ever seen. Dean's pink lips curve into a small smile. Castiel tries his best to smile back. After what he deems a socially accepted smile-time, Castiel quickly looks down at his desk as a blush forms over his ears. 

After 45 minutes in hell, the bell rings. Meg and Castiel are together and out of the room before the rest of the class has regained enough focus to stand. 

As it turns out, Meg had picked her classes specifically to be with Cas all day. They go to World History together, where Mr. Henrikson assigns the class to write rough drafts of an essay on an invention by next Monday. Meg scoffs at the assignment; Castiel wallows in an excuse to write. 

After final bell, Castiel and Meg walk out of the school together. Meg pats him on the back with an unceremonious "See ya" before she runs across the parking lot toward Ruby's truck. Ruby, Lily, and Crowley were part of the trouble making clique at the school. They were mostly harmless, simply driving fast or smoking a lot. However, sometimes, they managed to pull something more extreme off (they were once credited for putting weed in the central heat-vents at the school). It is the same clique that Cas' brother, Lucifer, had been a massive part of years before. Despite Lucifer's leaving, these kids still idolized him. (the weed was his idea).

Castiel smiles at Meg as she hops into the bed of Ruby's rusty monstrosity. She lands with a giggle on a mop-haired boy that Cas doesn't recognize. The truck growl and squeaks as it speeds out of the parking lot. 

Castiel spends the rest of his night reading ahead in his French book. He knows the language, but he needs something to pass the time and prepare for his future study sessions with Meg. Uriel and Samandrial are at friends' houses, so Anna and Cas eat Ramen and read separately until long after sunset. It's quiet in a nearly-sad way. They only talk to describe their first days.

A few blocks away, in a small excuse for an apartment, Dean Winchester is sitting on a sofa. The condensation from the beer in his hand leaves cold droplets as it runs over his hand. Dean's phone sits on the sofa next to him. Star Trek reruns are playing on the boxy television in front of him, but Dean isn't focused on the show. A few weeks ago, John had brought them here. A few days ago, he left again. A few hours ago, Sam left and hasn't called or come back. Dean takes another sip of his beer and looks at the phone again.  _This is shitty._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who is reading!  
> This is un-betad thus far, meaning that all mistakes are my own.
> 
> I managed to screw up and delete part of this chapter. If I made any mistakes in re-writing, let me know.
> 
> AND Meg is aromantic; Castiel is asexual.


	3. Black Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Meg drinks a Chai latte, the mop-haired kid has a name, and Castiel does homework.

Meg is already hung over by the second day. When Castiel greets her at the lockers, he notices the fading bruises on her throat and the dark circles under her eyes. Her voice is lower and more wearisome than usual.

“I’m never talking to those fuckers again. That Crowley bastard has it coming..” She growls to her friend upon his asking.

“And if you ask any more questions, I’ll kill you too.”

Despite his worry, Castiel decides not to push the matter further. She usually took hangovers like a champ. She also never let anybody lay a finger on her against her will.

With Meg’s recent and vague change in social circles, Cas and Meg wind up spending much more time together. Castiel spends most of the first week glaring at Meg over her gibberish French or writing his paper about the development of Enochian (which is an invention...kind of).

Meg and Castiel decide to start studying and relaxing at the coffee shop in the next town. From the outside, “Something Wicked” is just another plain, brick front building in a row. Inside, it’s small, warm, and darkened. The shop is a deep rectangle, with the counter and kitchen on the far side. Shelves line the walls with a bizarre array of books. The air is heavy with the aroma of rose petals and espresso. The space is only big enough for a sofa and 3 puffy chairs, which are all different patterns and styles. Castiel prefers the red Persian style chair, while Meg always takes the black, velvet one beside it.

Pamela Barnes, the owner and barista, is a sweet, flirtatious woman. She has long, wavy hair that falls over her shoulders. She is always wearing jeans, some kind of boots, and dark tank-top. If she isn't behind the counter, she is easily mistaken for a costumer, with her casual demeanor. She has an array of eye problems, which result in partial-blindness and her eyes having fogged-over look. Yet she doesn’t wear glasses or colored contacts. In fact, Pamela loves how freaked out some customers get by her eyes. Every time somebody asks her about them, she tells a different story. Castiel’s heard “I was struck by lightning.” “I got too close to the fire pit.” and, his favorite, “It was a horrible, latte related incident.” Castiel likes the startling appearance of her eyes, and she loves how easily people are freaked out by them. 

By the second week of school, Meg and Castiel have become regulars at the cafe. The pair like the peace of the shop. Meg specifically appreciates that Pamela let’s her smoke by the back door.

When they enter on the second Tuesday of their senior year, Pamela greets them with a friendly smile and a shout of “The usual?”

“Yes.” They say in unison as they take their respective seats.

The beats of quiet jazz music mix with the gargling and hissing of the machines behind the counter. Pamela busies herself making the coffees while Meg opens her Biology book and Cas a history paper. 

Mr. Henrikson had collected the rough-draft papers only to hand them back out to the class for proofreading. Castiel had the honor of correcting Benny’s paper on the invention of Tennessee Whiskey. Castiel can’t understand why this is an important invention to write about, but some of the lore is interesting. Mr. Henrikson had randomly assigned people to proof-read other’s papers. Castiel, to his dismay, didn’t see who got to check his. He just hoped they’d actually give him feedback.

Castiel is pulled from his thoughts by Pamela approaching their chairs with two coffees in hand.

“Twisted idea of a caramel latte for Castiel.” She says, handing him the whipped-cream topped monster of a drink and some paper napkins. “and a Chai latte for Meg.” Pamela smiles in victory as the teens relish the first few gulps of coffee. Pamela was shocked when Castiel first ordered a caramel latte as a black-eye with an extra shot and extra whipped cream. He never even glanced at a menu or paused to think over his order. She quickly accepted the challenge, however, and appreciated the teen's love for the drink. 

The oven behind the counter gives off a loud ‘ding’, indicating another batch of sweets is done. Pamela nearly runs across the shop to the kitchen.

Castiel and Meg drink their coffees and stare blankly at schoolwork for the few minutes before Pamela returns.

“Either of you want a job?” Meg sprays chai out of her nose in shock.

“Pardon?” Castiel asks, offering Meg a napkin.

“I’m a relaxed person who is single-handedly keeping this place afloat. I could use some help, but I’m reluctant to start hiring strangers.” Pamela settles into an over-stuffed chair opposite Meg and Cas, wrapping her slender fingers around her mug of tea.

"Judging by your eager reactions, I should look elsewhere." Pamela teases as she sips from her tea.

Meg and Castiel exchange terrified glances before returning to their work.

Meg jumps as the shop door slams ungracefully. Pamela wearily sighs, before getting up to greet her customers at the counter. Meg buries her nose in her work, prompting Castiel to look up. Castiel winds up making direct eye contact with a sneering Ruby. Lily, Ruby, Crowley, and the un-named mop-haired boy are ordering coffees. Ruby looks back to the menu board as she snakes her arm around the stranger’s shoulders. Once the group has their drinks, they stomp out of the shop. Crowley makes a point to sneer at Meg as he walks by.

“I have some more. Call me and we can meet up.” He hisses as he passes. Meg's face goes red and she clenches her empty fist. 

Castiel waits until the groups is driving away in Ruby’s truck.

“What the hell are they up to?” He snaps at Meg.

She looks at him with lidded eyes. Her head tilts like a snake’s.

“Crowley and Alistair have decided to indulge in recreational chemistry, if you know what I mean." Castiel nods in understanding.

“Who’s the kid.” He asks casually, looking at Meg with piercing eyes.

“Some new nerd. I couldn’t understand what he was doing at Lily’s last week, but Ruby has him wrapped around her little finger.” Her words are slow and venomous.

“His older brother is that cute new dude.” Meg says casually, moving on from the subject of last week’s escapade. She smiles as Castiel blushes. 

“Oh.” Castiel realizes too late that his voice squeaked with his reply.

Meg smiles at her friend. “You are so sad it’s cute, Clarence.”

Castiel playfully nudges her arm with his.

He had tried not to think too much about Dean since the first day. Meg caught Cas glancing to him during their classes together. She hadn’t told him that she caught Dean doing the same back.

They only time they had talked was when Cas had bumped into him unceremoniously in the hallway. They exchanged apologies, Dean smiled at Castiel so genuinely that the dark-haired boy nearly melted, and they moved on with their lives. As far as Cas was concerned, Dean is 100 percent out-of-reach. As far as Dean was concerned, Castiel is a cute, scared dork. Meg just wants the two to kiss and get over it.

Meg and Castiel go through their normal routine of coffees, teasing, and going on walks. They barely see The Delinquents (as they had taken to calling Crowley’s bunch). Meg’s attitude improves with each hour, and she’s gotten down to only smoking one pack a day. Castiel finds himself having dreams (both awake and asleep) of green eyes. This is getting out of hand. He finally thinks, forcing day-dreams of pink lips and spiked hair out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me, this shit ties together....I hope.   
> c'est la vie


	4. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which It's raining, Castiel is antsy, and Dean is a flirt.

It’s raining. That’s putting it mildly. The gates of heaven have opened up and dumped onto the Earth an ice-bucket challenge worthy of a billion youtube hits.

It’s the kind of rain that starts at night, when nobody is around to see it’s full beauty, and continues pouring for days on end. It’s the kind of downpour that is rare in the ‘Great ShitHole Desert’ (as Meg spitefully calls it).

This particular storm series wakes Castiel up Thursday night. His blue eyes flash open in time with a strike of lightning. The boy rolls onto his stomach and peers out of his window. Speckles of rain water leave dots on the screen and each new flash of lightning illuminates the streams of water running down the roof and street.

The storm is beautiful. The boy stays up, watching the rain as it comes and goes, swelling in intensity. He’s pretty sure that Uriel has woken up and started watching films on his computer, but Cas stays where he is. Locked in the natural wonder that is the storm.

~~~

Castiel sits in class, doodling swirly, nonsensical lines in his notes. Outside a few spits of rain were still falling from the sky. The waning storms add a chill to the air and, fortunately, an excuse for Castiel to wear his favorite coat.

The class around him was getting increasingly restless. Mr. Burns, the twenty-something substitute teacher for Mr. Shurley, had started class by telling the students to “do whatever”. He had proceeded to snapchat with his phone the whole period.

Castiel, upon hearing Mr. Burns’ declaration of apathy, had busied himself with French notes that quickly became pointless drawings. The rest of the class had descended into spit-ball fights, snorting fun dip, and very loudly chatting about the upcoming football games.

Although he was trying to busy himself, Cas could feel the hot buzz of frustration grow and spread through his back and skull. His hands shook slightly as the drawings grew across his paper.

Just as he begins sketching rough, hatched eyes in the margins, Cas feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns with a huff and is shocked to find a freckled nose and green eyes focused on him. Dean Winchester is leaning over the metal bar on the left of his desk.

“You’re Castiel, right?” Dean asks, lightheartedly. A paper ball flies past Dean’s head. It misses his ear by inches.

“Um yeah.” Cas replies quietly.

“I was the one who peer edited your history pepper. I really liked it. I mean, it was boring as shit, and I didn’t understand most of it, but your writing’s really good. I didn’t know all that shit.”

Dean says with a smile.

Castiel can feel a light blush building in his ears.

“Er…uh…thanks…I think.” As the words come out of his mouth, Castiel starts mentally kicking himself. _One friendly interaction and you turn into an idiot!_

Before Dean can continue, a spit wad lands square on Castiel’s right hand. Cas can’t contain the angry shiver that contorts his shoulders.

Dean speaks up, handing Cas a grease-stained blue rag to wipe the spit with, “Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

Cas wipes the spot off his hand. Despite the small, panicked voice in his head, he frantically packs his notes into his bag, puts on his coat, and stands with Dean.

Dean exists the room slightly ahead of the darker-haired boy. He walks casually but quickly. Cas has his messenger bag and the rag held tight to his chest, trying too hard to act casual.

Once Dean and Castiel are out of the broken fire exit, Dean slings an arm over Cas’ shoulders.

“We’re fugitives now. Renegades.” Dean says. As he smiles, Cas can’t help but stare and smile back.

Dean slides his arm off of Castiel and, instead, offers it for a handshake. He’s still smiling, and Cas can’t help but stare at how his eyes crinkle at the edges.

“We haven’t formally met. I’m Dean Winchester.”

Cas takes the freckled hand.

“I’m Castiel Milton.”

The handshake is firm and simple. Despite the formality of it, Cas feels a fleeting warmth creep from Deans hand to his spine.

“Let’s go.” Dean states and he begins walking toward the play ground.

The sun was blocked with fat, grey clouds. The rainy day gave the playground a blue, ethereal look about it. A slight chIll in the air creeps up Castiel’s sleeves. The drizzle threatening to return any second.

Dean hopped onto a swing, feet on the seat. The chains creak as he rocks it back and forth.

Castiel plunks his bag down on the driest spot of sidewalk he sees and follows Dean onto the swings. Instead of standing, Castiel sits on the swing, his trenchcoat hanging down almost to the ground.

“You know with that coat you look like Humphrey Bogart or something.”

Castiel looks up at Dean then, his forehead wrinkling in confusion.

Dean gracefully slides down into a sitting position on the swing.

“You have no idea who that is, do you?” Dean asks as he drags his feet in the dented-dirt.

“No.” Castiel answers as the familiar blush begins growing on his ears. Despite Castiel’s embarrassment, Dean smiles.

“Dude, watch a movie or something.”

With Dean sitting, his swing still next to Castiel’s, the dark-haired boy stares into his eyes.  

“I’ve never quite seen the appeal.” Cas answers honestly as he continues staring.

“Then you’ve never seen a good movie.” Dean answers.

They pause like that for a moment. The seconds stretch for hours in Castiel’s mind as he attempts to catalogue everything about Dean. They way his voice dips, the freckles on his nose (15 of them).

“So, who’s Castiel?” Dean interrupts Cas’ analysis “What’s your story, aside from boring essays and an anti-movie agenda?” Dean asks, too casually.

“I have too many siblings and my mom works in New York.” Castiel replies dryly.

“That’s them. What about you? Something interesting Like, what are you into?” Dean begins to sound impatient

“I like languages and some history. Religious ideology is also interesting.” Castiel responds. He can feel the heat rise in his cheeks.

Dean looks at him, his pink lips pulled into a small smile.

“You’re a nerd!” He says. “You should meet my brother, he’s all into that nerdy, books and words shit.” Dean says. He is still smiling. Castiel looks down at Dean’s grungy work boots skidding on the ground.

Castiel forces his fears down long enough to ask, “So what about you?” _It’s only polite conversation right? There’s no flirting here at all. Just two dudes….two totally not interested dudes talking._ Cas reminds himself.

“I have introduced myself at least 30 times. I think I’m sick of it.” Dean says with a sigh. Even Castiel can tell that he’s only half-joking.

“Then tell me something interesting.” Castiel replies unintentionally dryly.

Dean looks back up into Castiel’s eyes. He giggles silently to himself for a second before responding.

“I like Led Zeppelin and pretty boys.”

Just as Castiel begins asking what that even implies, the bell rings. Dean stands up and offers his hand forward to help Castiel up. Despite the cold, his hands are warm against Cas’.

Castiel walks toward his bag and notices the rag he took.

“Oh yeah. I have...this.” Castiel says as he hands Dean the small piece of cloth.

“Thanks,” Dean grabs the rag, “I guess having one of these became habit when I was working at the shop.” Dean says as he rakes one hand through the hair at the back of his head. He puts the rag in his pocket and walks back toward the school.

Castiel is careful to leave a few steps between him and Dean. He doesn’t want to look like he’s clingy (even if he desperately wants to be).

Castiel can’t help but roll over the conversation in his head. Opening his locker takes 3 times because he is so distracted. His stream of consciousness is broken by the faint smell of cigarettes behind him.

“I heard that you and Dean snuck out of class together. Anything interesting, Clarence?” Meg’s smoky voice asks.

“I just needed some air.” Castiel answers simply.

 _I hope he’s gay,_ Castiel thinks with no small amount of guilt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meg and Castiel’s feet fell into a tangle on top of her bed. It had been a week since Dean had helped Castiel escape class. It had also been a week since Castiel actually helped Meg study her French.

The lines in Castiel’s brow furrow further as he reads down the crumpled piece of paper.

“la fermière is the term for a female farmer. Le fermier is the masculine word.

Why is your last sentence ‘Putain ce.’?”

“Je suis non know.” With that, Meg pulls out an unlit cigarette and starts sucking on it. Castiel has forbade smoking in his house.

Castiel glances up from the paper, raising an eyebrow at Meg. She just smiles and tilts her head, not unlike a cat. Castiel sighs and begins scribbling on her paper, rewriting a great portion of it in an effort to fix her errors.

“A little birdy told me that you have the hots for that green eyed pretty boy.” Meg says, her grin broadening.

“I was unaware that you had communication with birds.” Cas replies dryly.

Meg stares back at her friend, not sure whether to take his ignorance seriously.

“It’s obvious, however, that your ability to speak with birds far surpases your ability to speak in French.” He finally cracks a smile.

Meg retaliate by throwing a crumpled paper ball at Cas’s head.

“Just answer the question, punk.”

“I don’t know.” He replies. Putting the notepaper down and pretending to read the book on his lap.

“How can you not just know?” Meg asks, getting impatient.

“Well, he’s not interested in me, so it doesn’t matter.” Castiel answers.

Meg leans over, crushing one of Cas’s legs in the process. She uses her right hand to force Cas’ attention up from the book.

“Ruby said that he saved you from a hell of an English class.” Meg says, lowering her voice for dramatic effect.

“He didn’t save me. He helped me save myself.” Castiel replies, still ‘focused’ on his book.

“That was fucking poetic, Clarence.” Meg says in disgust.

She sucks on the cigarette and mimes blowing smoke at the ceiling.

“So you like him, but you are afraid he doesn’t like you. Therefore, you’re convincing yourself that you ‘don’t know’ because you are a weak, squishy angel.” Meg leans back, proud of having successfully forced Cas to listen.

“That’s rude.” Cas says, his voice on the brink between sarcasm and grave seriousness.

“Besides, it doesn’t really matter, he’s straight.”

Meg fires her friend a life-threatening glare.

“Have you seen his lips? That boy was made to suck cock.” She says seriously.

Castiel’s face heats up in a crimson blush.

“You are perverted, squishy angel.” Meg giggles.

"I'm not the one talking about Dean's sexual abilities." He answers playfully.

The pair tease and study together the rest of the night. They never really leave each others' sides the rest of the weekend. The thunderstorms occasionally return for an hour or two. For a few days, Castiel's life seems comfortable and perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Dean is proving most difficult....  
> I told you there'd be more swearing.  
> Updates may be irregular (ye be warned), but I have loads of (hopefully interesting) things to come!  
> Thanks, darlings!!!
> 
> I also have a fanmix based on/inspired by this fic here: http://8tracks.com/augmenteddetective/this-is-gospel#smart_id=dj:600015


	5. Shiver Shiver

Castiel’s eyes peel open. Screaming _...or yelling...is there a difference?_ woke him up. Anna’s high-pitched words are muffled, but loud. There’s a lower voice, Uriel. A slight glow is growing on the horizon. With a glance at his alarm, Cas realizes that his siblings are fighting at 6 AM.

Castiel sits up and weighs his options. Go downstairs and fuel a fire, or stay upstairs and risk getting burned.

He opts for the latter.

20 minutes later, the yelling stops with Uriel slamming the door and walking away from the house. Cas slips out of bed, puts on a plain t-shirt, and walks downstairs. His bare feet make the journey quiet.

Castiel pauses in front of the kitchen door. If Anna is still in there, she’s quiet. He sighs before pushing the door open.

Anna is sitting at the small table, facing out the window.

“There’s coffee.” Anna’s voice is haggard from yelling. She continues to look at the window.

Castiel pours himself a cup and sits down next to his sister. She’s still in the tank-top and joggers she sleeps in, and her eyes are slightly pink.

“Naomi called.” She states.

“At 6?” Castiel can feel the blood rush from his face. He sips his coffee, hoping his sister hasn’t noticed.

“She’s shit at time-zones.” Anna replies. “She’s in London, apparently. Not sure if it’s business or...something.” Anna takes a few gulps of coffee.

“She never calls when she’s on business.” Castiel offers, not sure what to think.

“Uriel answered the phone, so I didn’t get all of it, but she wants me to move to New York with her...I think.” Anna finally looks at her brother then.

“Just you?” Castiel looks into her blue/green eyes. For, biologically speaking, being twins, they have so many differences, he realizes.

“Once again, this is from Uriel, so who knows: She apparently thinks I could start a career or something. Just me.” Anna’s voice cracks both from yelling and with exhaustion.

“I’m not going to though. I’d rather be here.” She reaches out and grabs her brothers hand. They sip their coffees and watch the sunrise together. Neither talks about Naomi again.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Castiel needs to run. the day was horrible and his whole body is antsy with anxiety. After school, he rushes through his homework in an hour then changes for a run.

The morning had gotten off to a Noami-infested start, Crowley was gone so Meg was with Ruby all day. Mr. Henrikson had also collected the peer-edited papers and told the class to get to work on the final drafts. Castiel’s brain was a storm of school-work and people’s lives.

About  20 minutes into his run, it starts raining...pouring. Castiel just rubs the water out of his eyes and soldiers on for almost another hour.

Dean is driving up the street, when Sam points out the soggy boy.

“Isn’t that kid in your class?”

“Yeah.” Dean glances over, “What the hell is he doing?”

Castiel is running through puddles, his shoes now soaked. His hair and shorts have plastered onto his skin and water pours down his body.

Dean pulls over and rolls down his window. Castiel stops and looks awkwardly at the driver.

“Can I help you?” Dean will never become accustomed to that low, gravelly voice.

“Yeah, we’re giving you a ride.”

Castiel looks shocked at Dean’s demand “Why?”

“It’s raining cats and dogs and we can’t have you drowning.”

Dean pats the door of the car, as if to beckon Castiel forward. Without a word, Castiel steps forward and lets himself into the Impala’s back seat.

As the car pulls away, Sam introduces himself and shakes Castiel’s hand.

“So, where do you live?” Dean glances in the rearview mirror, catching Castiel’s blue gaze.

“724 Thatcher. It’s a big, white house, you can’t miss it.”

Castiel knows he should feel guilty for getting the ride, he shouldn’t make other people watch out for him. Even then, the inside of the car is warm, and Dean has a comforting and caring presence.

The car slows in front of Castiel’s house. As if on cue, a strike of lightning shoots behind the house.

“What are you? The Addams family?” Dean should watch his manners, but he is in shock. The house is huge. It stands alone at the top of a hill, and it comes with it’s own lightning.

“We’re the Novaks. We have no known relations to anybody named Addams.” Castiel states dryly.

Dean and Sam turn to the back seat simultaneously. Sam is biting his lip to keep from giggling, and Dean’s bright-green eyes are wide in shock.

“Dude, do you not own a tv?” Dean asks in confusion.

“No.” Castiel answers slowly, wondering why these two are so interested.

Sam leans over and whispers something to Dean. Castiel can’t make out the words, but whatever it is causes Dean to smile.

“Okay. After you change, you are coming with us so we can pump some culture into your head.” Dean practically shouts. Castiel is still confused as to why he is being so animated about Castel watching television.

“I don’t even know you.” Castiel replies, still not exiting the car.

“I’m Sam, this is Dean, we’re Winchesters. We live at 412 1st street, and we promise to have you home by a decent hour.” Sam says, smiling.

“Come in with me.” Castiel says, slowly regretting his decision. Inviting new people into his life had never been easy. However, right now, he wants a distraction from the petty mess of his day.

The boys exit the Impala and run up the narrow walk to the huge front door.

Once they're inside, Anna greets the Winchesters and gets them coffee. Anna, Sam and Cas talk in the entryway over coffee while Cas changes upstairs.

Castiel opts for a cotton, blue shirt and casual jeans. No need to dress up.

His mind is kicking itself for letting him a)invite people into the house b)let them pick him up in the first place. Castiel nearly trips over a pile of books as he rushes out of his room and down the stairs. To his horror, Castiel and Anna are smiling at each other flirtatiously? He pushes those silly pangs of jealousy down as he grabs his trenchcoat from the coat-hook beside the door. Dean and Sam say goodbye to Anna before they lead Cas back to the impala.

The trio start their journey across town, which really takes about five seconds.

“Who are you talking to?” Dean asks, glancing at his texting brother. Castiel looks awkwardly between the brothers, sensing tension.

“I wanted to see if Ruby wanted to join us.” Sam replies impatiently.

“That crack-snorting bitch is not coming to my house.” Dean almost-shouts. “Ask somebody else.”

Sam glares at his brother.

“What about that Jess girl?” Dean asks casually. “You hang out with her at school. She seems…..cute.” Dean continues awkwardly.

Sam smiles as a blush spreads across his cheekbones.

“Yeah, she’s….yeah.” He begins sending a different text as the car pulls in front of a shabby, green duplex.

Cas sits nervously in one end of the sofa. Sam sits on the floor in front of the opposite side, his shoulder bumping into Jessica’s. Jessica is a freshman, like Sam. She has a mess of blonde, curly hair. She’s wearing second-hand jeans and a comfortable looking flannel shirt. Castiel doesn’t point out the irony that Sam and Jess dress similarly.

The television comes to life with a horn fanfare and words sliding up the screen. Castiel has hardly said a word since the impala ride. Nobody’s asked him a question, and he’s nervous about starting a conversation.

"Star Wars is a good starting point. Prepare yourself for new leagues of pop-culture." Dean declares as he slots himself next to Castiel on the sofa. Dean sat casually with one arm over the back of the sofa and the other holding a can of soda. Dean had offered Castiel a drink, but he opted out. Now he regrets his decline.

As the film continues, Sam and Jess slide closer together. Castiel notices Sam’s blushing when Jessica leans against his shoulder. There’s something about the pair though. Castiel has seen Sam with Ruby. He’s more aggressive and dark with her. Near Jessica, though, Sam laughs and blushes like a child.

Castiel doesn’t know what to do with Dean though. He wants to lean into the muscles of the boy’s shoulder. He wants to examine the lines of his palms and the curves of his lips. Instead, Castiel sits quietly on his side of the sofa. He tries to pay good attention to the film, hoping that Dean will be proud of his new exposure to science-fiction.

As the end-credits roll, Castiel notices that Sam and Jess have fallen asleep. Sam is snoring slightly, and Jessica has relaxed into the boy’s arm and fluffy hair.

“Let’s get out of here.” Dean whispers.

Castiel stands up quietly, grabs his coat from beside the door, and follows Dean out of the small duplex.

“Drive or walk.” Dean offers as he steps onto the pavement.

“Walk.” Castiel replies.

Dean smiles causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his worn, brown leather jacket. Castiel looks at him. The blue glow of a fading day and growing night reflects off of his features.. Dean is truly beautiful.

“What’d ya think.” Dean asks as they walk. They are walking up the block from the duplex, to main-street.

“The story-line was interesting. I appreciate how they made Luke evolve and grow from a lost kid to a more mature and understanding adult.”

“Nerd.” Dean sighs, smiling.

Castiel ponders a dozen different questions to ask Dean. They roll around in his mind before he finally lets one slip.

“Why are you here?” _Oh no, that’s rude_.

“What?” Dean asks. He looks at Castiel with that twinkling playfulness in his eyes.

“I mean. Why do you and Sam live here? Not many people wind up here and I just wondered what brings you guys to Wayton.” Castiel says too quickly.

Dean sighs and looks up to the sky.

“We grew up everywhere. My dad does a combination of bounty-hunting and odd-jobs, so we drifted from town to town and school to school.”

Dean sits on the chipped wooden bench in front of the post office. Castiel sits next to him.

“For the last two years Sam and I kind of settled in Sioux Falls. Dad still drifted, but Bobby took care of us. Sam did normal school crap and I worked with Bobby, and it was good.

Last summer Dad decided to play ‘Dad’ again. He came to Sioux Falls, packed up our shit, and drove us down here.” Dean recites the story.

“Why here?” Castiel asks, trying not to let his curiosity pass into rudeness. Unfortunately, Dean's story only sparked more questions in Cas' mind.

“Dad grew up around here I guess. Really I question if he just hates us or something. He dumped us here and left for a job in Omaha.” Dean looks at the moon again.

“My dad left when I was nine. Naomi, whom I assume is my mother, drifts too. Mostly to cities where the money is.” Castiel looks at Dean again, drawing confidence from him.

“There’s no fucking jobs here,that’s for sure.” Dean looks into Castiel’s eyes. A small bundle of hope swells up in Castiel’s chest.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Castiel says, smiling.

Dean furrows his brows in confusion. Castiel stares longer into those green eyes. A shiver from Cas breaks the moment though.

“It’s fucking cold.” Dean giggles. “Let’s head back. Don’t want Sam and Jess getting too comfortable.

The pair walk back to the ugly duplex. They kick the rocks off the street and Dean tries to explain the hilarity of ‘Han shot first.’

When they walk into the house, Sam and Jessica are leaning against the kitchen counters and eating oven pizza. Dean grabs a slice as Castiel sheds his coat.

Dean scarfs down the greasy slice in a couple of bites as Sam and Jess laugh over the cheesy mess.

“So what did you mean about a job?” Dean asks around a mouthful of pizza.

“I have a friend who runs a coffee shop and is overwhelmed. I think you’ll like Pamela.”

“You’d make a great hipster-barista. I’ll buy you some glasses.” Sam chimes in. Dean shoots him a teasing glare, earning him a napkin-wad tossed at his head.

Castiel looks between the brothers, not fully understanding.

“I’ll apply to be a hipster. Whatever.” Dean says to Sam, smiling.

“How about we get together Friday, you help me get a job, and I’ll buy you a cheeseburger.” Dean turns to Castiel as he says this.

“Okay.” Cas replies.

The group eat pizza and tease each other for another hour.

Finally, Dean drives Jess and Castiel to their homes. Jessica and Sam hug when she leaves.

When Castiel gets out of the car, he opts for a wave instead.

As much as Castiel wants to hug Dean, he’s satisfied with their newly forming friendship.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All these chapter titles are songs.  
> I am particularly proud of this one. Seriously. Go google Shiver Shiver by Walk the Moon NOW.
> 
> If you are reading this sentence, I assume you have just returned from listening to Shiver Shiver. Dayum right?  
> Thanks for sticking with me. Hopefully, things are starting to get more interesting.
> 
> Everybody who leaves comments, kudos, or says hi to me on Tumblr gets a virtual cookie. (If I had the money/patience I would send you real cookies).


	6. Hell's Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel stands by a locker, Dean makes coffee, and Castiel uses iTunes.

Dean stopped by Castiel’s locker before 4th hour on Friday to ask if they still had plans. Castiel gulped, said they did, and rushed to his next class before Dean noticed his blush.

After school, Castiel stood in front of his locker, trenchcoat on. He didn’t move in case Dean came by and didn’t see him. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, Dean walks down the hall toward him. Castiel really doesn’t understand why Dean is smiling, but he doesn’t ask.

Cas hadn't really thought about transportation, luckily Dean seemed more than happy to drive the pair. As they walked across the parking lot to the black Impala, Castiel couldn't help but notice Dean's lack of a bag.

"Don't you have anything to study?" He asks, worried that Dean forgot an upcoming test.

"I'm fine." Dean smiles and opens the passenger car door for his friend.

After Dean is seated Castiel notices his expression. Green eyes are focused through the windshield in a dark glare. Castiel follows Dean’s gaze and notices Sam getting into Ruby’s truck with Lily and Meg again. Apparently Crowley is still absent.

“I get bad vibes off them, you know?”

“Meg’s okay when she’s not with the others.” Castiel chimes in, hoping to defend his friend.

“Yeah, she’s seems…...okayish. Ruby and the other one though. They just give me the creeps. I just-I just wonder what they want with Sam.” Dean looks down at the steering wheel as he continues, "He's honestly a good kid. Wants to be a lawyer. He can do it too. I just don't want him getting distracted or whatever."

Castiel looks at Dean. Dean blinks as if to push his thoughts away and puts the Impala in drive without another word.

Dean turns a knob on the car stereo as the sound of church bells fills the car. Castiel watches Dean tap the steering wheel to the now-playing music and hum along. Dean’s humming is off-key, but Castiel watches intently, studying the lines and movements of Dean’s face. The song’s loud, louder than anything Cas would normally listen to, but the boy can’t help but enjoy the experience, this intimate few moments of Dean Winchester.

After the song ends, Dean turns the stereo back down and pays more attention to driving than listening. Castiel continues to watch him though, never wanting to turn away.

 

A few moments later, Dean parks in front of Something Wicked.

“What is this, a porn shop?” Dean asks casually, examining the shop front.

Castiel feels his cheeks heat up at Dean’s inquiry.

“Um, no. As far as I know, Pamela is not involved in the pornography business.”

Dean looks at Castiel, eyebrows raised.

“Thanks.” Dean says.

Castiel leads them into the shop. Pamela greets him with a hug (that he attempts to return).

“Who’s this?” She asks, ‘looking’ Dean up and down with her white eyes.

“Dean Winchester. Can he be your new employee?” Castiel asks.

Pamela steps forward, reaches up, and feels the curves of Dean’s face. Dean’s eyebrows knit together at the awkward contact, but he doesn’t back away.

Pamela backs away and lets go of Dean. One hand slides behind him and squeezes his ass. Dean jumps at the contact and glares at Pamela.

“I see well enough that I don’t need to do the groping. I was just messing with you.” Pamela smiles before walking behind the counter, gesturing for the teens to follow.

Castiel pulls a bench up and sits at the counter like a bar, watching Dean and Pamela. She quickly goes over some of the basic coffees, sandwiches, and muffins. Dean purses his lips in concentration as she attempts to teach him how to use the cappuccino machine properly. After each of Dean’s attempts, he places the product in front of Castiel with a smile. The first Americano is overbearing, the second too watered down. After a few tries, Castiel has a line of French press coffees and and extra large version of his special caramel latte. Pamela seems pleased with Dean’s abilities, and starts talking about work hours.

They wind up staying at the shop for 2 hours. Dean is great with the panini’s, but not very good at baking muffins. Him and Pamela quickly warm up to each other as they giggle over milk-foaming-gone-wrong, and Castiel’s expressions of fear.

Dean runs off to the bathroom to clean up before they leave. He had somehow managed to get flower in his hair.

“I like him.” Pamela purrs to Castiel as she wipes sugar off the counter with her hands.

“Me too.” Castiel says, hiding his smile behind a mug of coffee.

As if on cue, Dean walks back to the counter.

“Ready to go?” He asks.

“Yes.” Castiel puts down his coffee, throws a few dollars in the tip jar, and follows Dean out the front door.

“Anywhere else you need to go?” Dean asks as the Impala’s engine growls to life.

“I need to get home. I’m sure Anna’s missing me.” Castiel answers simply.

“I like the job and such but, I have to ask: If Pamela was looking for help and you already know her, why didn’t you just ask for a job?” Dean asks.

“I just get really stressed about school stuff.” Castiel looks out the window, watching yellowing fields roll by. “It doesn’t seem like it, but it’s been a lot with Anna and I doing college prep, and I have to help Meg with her homework...usually…” Castiel can’t think of anything else to say.

“Yeah. My grades have been shit lately. Well, they’ve always been shit.” Castiel looks back at Dean’s lips as the blond boy smiles. Although he’s smiling, Castiel can sense the tension in his eyes.

“I can help you study. I find that my best way of learning the material is by explaining it to others.” Castiel is not entirely confident about his teaching skills, but he desperately wants to help his friend out.

"Yeah. We could do the nerd thing and plan study sessions." Dean half-jokes.

"I'm free on Thursdays." Castiel offers. Technically he's free everyday, but Thursday is particularly stressful for Cas, and Dean's company might relieve that.

“You get me a job, you offer to tutor me. Cas, you are a godsend.” Dean sighs.

Castiel laughs quietly at Dean’s remark.

“What’s funny?” The younger boy asks.

“‘I find your choice of words amusing. ‘Godsend’ All my siblings and I have biblical names. My parents named us all after angels, actually.” Castiel never stops looking at the lines and contours of Dean’s face as he speaks.

“You’re weird.” Dean laughs.

Castiel continues to stare.

“I like it.” Dean continues.

 

For the rest of the ride to Castiel’s house, Dean talks about the songs that come on the radio and the genius (or lack thereof) of each piece. Castiel looks out the window, watching Kansas roll by. He takes mental notes of everything Dean says, even if he doesn’t fully understand it.

Castiel doesn’t hug Dean when he gets out of the car.

  
  
  
Castiel walks up to his room. He doesn’t greet any of his siblings before he runs upstairs, takes Anna’s macbook from her room, and starts searching for music. He starts with the artists and songs Dean likes, and branches off from there, following trails of artists that Castiel likes. Three hours pass, countless pages of youtube and last.fm are open, and Castiel has made a list of all the songs he likes the best. The boy finds himself leaning more toward modern songs. However, there is little pattern to it. Instead of the actual rhythmic elements, he tries to focus on the lyrics and potential meanings of each song. Once Castiel is satisfied with his lists, he opens iTunes and begins making playlists. The first one is titled “Something Wicked”. The following ones are untitled and only have a few songs in them, but Castiel plans to add more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some ideas as to how the coffee shop element came here, but they are not worth explaining.
> 
> So, yeah.
> 
> It's a total slow burn. I'd say sorry, but I'm not really. I LOVE friends to lovers kind of stuff, and it seems the most realistic to their situation. 
> 
> Thanks if you have stayed this long. I'm slowly cranking this sucker out. I promise it'll get interesting (maybe there'll be cuddling, maybe there'll be orgasms. Maybe both?)
> 
> Thanks, ducklings!


	7. Hanging By a Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean's focus needs more focus, Castiel picks the worst time to do the dishes, and Meg and Sam need a ride.

Throughout the next week, Castiel sees less and less of Meg, but more of Dean. Dean starts sitting by him in class. Although Castiel never has much to say to him, they occasionally share glances and smiles. In the hall after school each day, Dean reminds Castiel of their study session on Thursday.

 

The Impala’s growling engine stops in front of the big, foreboding house. Castiel’s house. Dean and Castiel hop out of the car and move toward the door.

“Can I see your room?” Dean asks casually.

Castiel has a brief moment of panic. He’s always seen a person’s room as a private extension of themselves, not to mention his is really messy. It’s stressful enough letting somebody into his house, his room is an entirely different level of anxiety.

“Um, sure.” Castiel finally answers. He begins walking up the stairs with Dean at his heels. Dean pauses in front of a frame hanging along the stairwell. Castiel feels the blush spread across his face when he realizes what Dean is looking at.

“Senior photo?” Dean asks, pointing.

The picture is of Castiel. He’s wearing black trousers with a plain white shirt tucked in. His sleeves are rolled up casually. Castiel is standing, one arm extended above his head, supporting his weight against a side wall. He had attempted to tame his hair, but a few messy locks still stick out.

“Thank you.” Castiel states, secretly hoping Dean likes it.

“It’s great. Really. You’re eyes look like, mega-fucking-blue here. Can I have one?” Dean turns from the photo to look at the real-time Castiel.

“Um...sure. I’ll grab one for you.” Castiel answers as he continues up the stairs.

"Who are these guys?" Dean points to a photo of a young, smiling Gabriel. Gabriel never had a senior photo taken, so Anna picked a nice picture and hung it with the other senior photos.

"My siblings. There's Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel, Balthazar, Raphael and Anna." Castiel goes down the line, pointing at each well-dressed, smiling teen. 

"Big family." Dean says. 

Castiel looks at the pictures of his family, the ones who have left on their own journeys.

"It feels small though. We don't really talk much. Samandrial and Uriel don't have senior photos yet, but it still feels like they've left. They're not home much..." Castiel immediately regrets his little ramble.

Dean smiles at Castiel's picture once more before they continue up the stairs.

 

Dean looks around Castiel’s room. Cas tries not to look too embarrassed as Dean’s eyes scan over piles of books and a few empty coffee mugs.

“What’s this” Dean asks, picking up a small book.

“It’s Demons by Fyodor Dostoyevsky in the original Russian. Gabriel sent it last winter.” Castiel answers dryly.

“Wow, man, so you’re, like, a genius that speaks a million languages or something?” Dean sounds impressed, still examining the book in his hands.

“Only five if you count English and American Sign Language.”

Dean puts the book down and turns to Castiel, eyes wide.

“Nerd. Sam’s gonna shit a brick when he finds out that you’re smarter than him.”

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified-”

“You just proved my point.” Dean's eyes do that crinkle when he teases Castiel.

Dean gives one last glance around Castiel’s room before turning to leave.

“I thought you wanted to see my room?” Cas is confused by Dean’s constantly changing plans and discrepancies.

“Calm down. I was just going down to grab my bag so you can help me study for this freakin’ English exam.” Dean explains.

Castiel just smiles as Dean hurries down the stairs. Any shame about his odd house or messy room has disappeared. Dean still wants to talk to him and be near him, for now, that’s enough for Castiel.

In Dean’s absence, Castiel goes to work clearing off the center of the floor for studying space.

 

Dean returns with his bag. Castiel can’t help but be impressed that he’d actually thought to bring books home. Castiel sits on the floor, crosslegged with his book and notebooks spread out in front of him. Dean tosses his bag to the floor, and kneels down next to it.

Dean is the first to talk.

“So, you like language and stuff. Do you wanna be a teacher?” His voice is as casual as ever.

“No.” Castiel starts picking at the ancient gum stain on his Literature textbook.

“Well, what do you wanna do?” Dean usually hates these conversations, but he desperately wants to understand the other boy, to know everything he can about him.

“I just want to see the world, you know.” Castiel looks up as he answers and focuses on Dean’s eyes.

“I feel like I’ve been cooped up here forever. I really want to see things and talk to people and expose myself to as much beauty as I can.” Castiel is staring at Dean as he answers, he knows it, but he can’t pull his eyes away. There’s a comfort in his mind that is prompted and held with Dean’s gaze.

“Yeah I can see that.” Dean replies, breaking the connection as casually as possible. “I picture you with a beard walking around those markets and neighborhoods you see on tv.” Dean smiles at his own daydream. “Nah, you’d be like Bruce Banner. Helping people and shit. I can see that.” Dean’s smiling and staring at Castiel now. Both boys look away, embarrassed at how intimate the air is between them.

“So, uh...English.” Castiel says nervously.

The pair discuss the motivations of King Claudius for approximately 5 minutes before it starts to fall apart.

“Poison via the ear could rep…..what are you doing?” Castiel right foot starts to tickle, causing him to look up from the grimy textbook.

Dean has his own shoe off and placed next to Cas’. He’s braiding the laces together. Castiel furrows his brow in confusion.

“Art.” Dean replies, smiling at Castiel.

Castiel looks around the room, realizing just how little focus Dean actually has. The textbooks and foldiers from Dean’s bag are stacked like a card-house, and Dean’s pens are arranged into the word “ugh” on the floor.

“I’d be insulted by how little you’ve been paying attention, but the book stack is vaguely impressive from a structural standpoint.” Castiel says, watching Dean’s calloused fingers braid the shoe laces.

“Huh?” Dean looks at Cas, trying not to grin at his own ridiculousness.

“We’re taking a break.” Castiel realizes how stiff his legs are as he stands. He kicks off his shoes leaving Dean’s braided to his. Castiel walks out of his room and back down the stairs to the kitchen. Once the boys enter the kitchen, Castiel begins cleaning the dishes that fill the sink.

“Seriously? You’re doing the dishes right now.” Dean asks, leaning against the island as he watches Cas work.

“It’s one of my daily chores, and it helps me relax.” Castiel answers, not looking up from the sink.

“I just reuse the same spoon and plate a hundred times.” Dean continues.

Castiel smiles.

Dean watches in silence as Castiel finishes the dishes. Normally, Cas would feel weird going through his normal routine with company, but there is something about Dean that makes it seem okay. Actually, as Castiel thinks on it, he realizes how incredibly fucking weird it is to do dishes of all things during a study date...er...study get-together. However, when Castiel turns from the sink and dries his hands he finds Dean leaning against the counter with honest interest in his eyes.

“Any other secrets?” Dean teases. “Do you secretly love doing laundry? Is your favorite past-time vacuuming.”

“I find the noise of the vacuum irritating.” Castiel answers honestly.

Dean raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything more.

“Ready?” Castiel asks, gesturing toward the stairs.

“Ready.” Dean answers, and they return to work.

This time, Castiel starts his playlist quietly on Anna’s laptop. The music is very soft, almost inaudible, but the rhythms can still be followed.

Castiel realizes that Dean is more focused this time. The blond actually writes things in his notebooks as Castiel quizzes him on Hamlet and, later, biology material. Cas is particularly proud when Dean starts humming to a song. They occasionally take breaks to grab a soda or just stretch their legs.

Finally, Castiel asks Dean about the upcoming town celebration.

“So, are you going to the bicentennial thing on the fourth?” Castiel asks, looking at his book instead of Dean’s eyes.

“That’s a thing?” Deans asks in response.

“Yeah. I think they just do fireworks and practice public displays of drunkenness.” Castiel says.

“Doesn’t sound like your kind of thing.” Dean says simply.

Castiel looks up into Dean’s eyes.

“I thought maybe it’d be your ‘kind of thing’.” He says.

“Nah.” Dean looks up as he answers. “I’d rather spend my Saturday watching TV and drinking a beer.”

Castiel is slightly put off that Dean didn’t mention them doing something together, but he’s doesn’t want to be rejected.

“Okay.” Castiel almost whispers before returning to the school work.

After another few hours of studying, during which Dean makes huge progress and actually begins thinking on the motivations of King Claudius rather than repeat Castiel’s answers, Castiel’s phone rings.

“Hello.”

“Heeeyyyy.” Meg’s voice is low. “Um. Yeah. Clarence baby, um, could you pick me up.” Meg keeps interrupting herself giggling.

“You’re high.” Castiel states. Dean looks up from his notes at his friend. Castiel’s eyes are darkened beyond anything he’s seen. There’s an anger in the boy’s face that is completely new to Dean.

“Only um-duh” Meg answers. There’s a muffling sound as she puts her hand on the phone and begins talking to somebody in the back.

“And the mop is here toooooo.” She starts giggling. “Except he’s not a mop. He’s a nerd! Yeah I’m at Ruby’s. Um, Crowley fucking took my car and I reeeaaaally need a fucking ride.” At the mention of Crowley Meg’s voice gets lower and rougher, almost a growl.

Castiel hands up and looks at Dean.

“I need a ride.”

Neither of the boys talk as Castiel navigates the Impala out of town. After a few miles down gravel roads, they park at a large, white house. It looks like a shabbier version of the Milton’s. Meg is sitting on the front steps. Sam is laying on his back, head on her lap, and one hand extended toward the stars. There is no sign of Ruby’s truck or Meg’s car.

Castiel gets out and stands in front of the passenger door. Dean sits in the driver seat. Castiel isn’t sure what he’s doing, but he senses that Dean is just as scared and angry as he is. Castiel’s arms rest at his sides, and his expression is blank. However, his mind is attempting to take this all in. It’s been a year since a slurred Meg called him asking for a ride. Then there’s Sam. Sam, the boy who’d been so giggly and embarrassed by inviting Jess over is laying on a run-down porch. His hair flops about messily, and his whole body looks drained and tired.

Meg waves sloppily at Castiel, Sam lifts his head up and flashes his teeth in a bloodthirsty grin. Castiel’s chest tightens at the odd expression. Meg stumbles upright before helping Sam to his feet.

Once Castiel has organized the pair in the backseat, he gets in next to Dean. The group sits there for a few minutes before Dean speaks.

“You stupid fucking asshole.” He tries not to shout. “What if my phone had died, huh? What if somebody tipped off the fucking cops? Where’s your friend? She just left you here, off your ass, to fend for yourself!”

Sam looks up into Dean’s eyes. There’s a darkness there, a darkness that Castiel can’t help but fear.

“I’m fine.” Sam reassures his brother.

Dean sighs, puts the car in drive, and speeds back into town.

“You’re staying here tonight. Do you need to call anyone?” Castiel asks Meg as he helps her into the Winchester’s duplex.

“You know I don’t you meatball.” Meg wraps her arms around Castiel’s waist as they walk.

Dean doesn’t help Sam as the younger boy stumbles out of the car. Dean’s eyes are focused down, his face is tense.

Castiel leads Meg to the sofa. He wraps her in a blanket before moving to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.

Dean instructs Sam to go to his room and go to bed.

Meg is asleep before Castiel can give her the water.

Dean and Castiel stand in the kitchen, listening to the deep breathing of Meg sleeping.

“What are they on?” Dean asks, never looking away from Meg on the sofa.

“I don’t know.” he whispers. “Crowley’s always been creative though.” Castiel looks out the kitchen window into the night. 

“Dean moves his hand so it rests on top of Castiel’s on the counter ledge. “Can you stay here?” His voice shakes.

Castiel looks at Dean then. Dean doesn’t look back, and his eyes are red and glistening.

“I’ll stay here.”

After a few minutes of silence, Dean moves his hand from Castiel’s.

“I’m going to bed.” He declares as he starts walking toward a closed door between the kitchen and living room.

“You gonna sleep standing up?” He asks Castiel. Cas follows without a word.

Dean’s room is small and simple. A double bed with a grey comforter sits against two walls opposite the door. There’ a small dresser and a single nightstand in the room. It’s small, but comfortable. There's an unpacked cardboard box beside the bed. 

“Um.” Castiel watches as Dean strips down to his boxers and t-shirt.

“What?” Dean asks casually.

“You have one bed.” Castiel answers, trying not to be rude.

“It’s a double.” Dean’s tired. Castiel can hear it in his voice. That and his actions have been too intimate.

Dean lifts the covers and slides underneath. Castiel lays on top of the opposite side, trenchcoat on, above the covers. Within a few moments, Dean is asleep. Castiel can’t help but marvel at his low, deep breathing and the way his face relaxes in sleep. Castiel lays there for a few hours before his mind drifts into sleep.

Castiel wakes up early. He checks his phone and realizes it’s 5 AM. Without a word, he looks at Dean’s sleeping form for a few more seconds before he leaves the bed.

As gently as possible, Castiel steps out of Dean’s room and out of the small duplex.

He stands on the pavement, hands at his sides and face toward the sky. The bitter autumn air causes his breath to form steam clouds with each exhale. It creeps down his neck and up the sleeves of his coat.

The cold helps his mind focus in the early morning. With each passing second and foggy breath, the events of the past few hours comes back to him. He clings to each syllable Dean spoke and the small momentsDean shared with him. The boy tries to ignore the frustration of Meg and Sam’s behavior.

Castiel begins the short walk home. As he steps up the hill, he realizes what he must do.

Castiel is going to watch fireworks with Dean Winchester.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who has read this.  
> If you want to talk about everything from genderbends to Castiel's shoulders, I am on le tumblr: goingtofall. 
> 
> I apologize for my inability to write Dean. What is Dean? Can somebody explain to me the science of Dean?
> 
> I also based the description of Castiel's photo on this: http://images.cwtv.com/images/c/0015/cw-supernatural-prt-mcollins_045752-07420e-325x434.jpg.


	8. Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel makes a CD, Dean is punctual, and Castiel can't use his words.

The next weeks passed with relative ease. Castiel spent more time with Dean than he did alone, and he couldn't help his blush everytime Dean waited for him after class.

For the first time, in a long time, Casriel had a friend.

A friend who worked at his favorite coffee shop.

Dean worked whatever hours he could squeeze in. Castiel often went with, helping Dean study on his breaks  

Castiel had made a CD. Thanks to Dean, his musical tastes have expanded. The CD is not just a replica of the hundreds of songs that Dean has had him listen to. This very special CD is compiled of songs that Castiel found and liked by himself. 9 songs that Castiel has come to love, and these songs remind him of Dean (that’s a bonus). The boy is childishly proud of his creative accomplishment.

This playlist had been titled ‘Impala’ on iTunes. Castiel can’t explain why the title seems so appropriate. The songs just remind him of Dean driving his beloved car.

 

Castiel is also proud because he has been planning this evening since Dean expressed his distaste at the Q125 celebrations. Cas respects Dean enough to fulfill his need for distance, but he also thinks that the boys deserve to enjoy the night.

 

After setting two folded duvets and his CD in its case on the sofa, Castiel texts Dean.

 

Can you pick me up? I have a new CD.

 

Cas finds the text to be appropriately vague.

 

Just as Castiel considers sending a more detailed message, the familiar purr of the impala stops in front of the house.

Cas grabs his duvets and CD. Dean, always the gentleman, holds the back door for him to place the comforters there. .

Once the pair are settled in the front seat, Dean inquires:

“Okay, what is going on?” Dean asks. Castiel can’t help but feel that his voice is exceptionally low at the moment.

“We’re going to watch the fireworks.” Castiel states simply, proud of his idea.

Castiel has Dean drive straight out of town. The impala is followed by a trail of gravel dust as they continue for miles out of town. Castiel casually gives Dean directions and Dean, for once, gives somebody else control over the destination of His Baby. Finally, Cas tells Dean to take a left onto an abandoned farm-place.

The lot is big and flat and looks out onto the southern side of the town. The impala pulls over so the rear tires present a perfect place to lean and see the upcoming fireworks show.

“Oh, I’ve got a boombox.” Dean says as Castiel picks the CD up from the backseat.

As Dean puts batteries in an outdated CD player, Cas lays one duvet out on the ground and up the rear tire of the Impala. Dean loads and plays the CD, then joins Cas, sitting on the blanket and leaning on the wall of the tire.

Dean wraps the second duvet over the two of them, creating a heap with two shaggy-haired heads poking up from the top.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Dean is looking up at the stars now.

All of a sudden Cas is afraid that his CD is too cute and Dean won’t like it. Looking up at the stars with Dean, he tries to push his anxiety down.

“Sometimes I wish I could just fly away, see how high I could go before I had to come back down.” Dean gets embarrassed after saying that and turns his face away from Castiel, still looking up into the sky.

“I don’t want to discourage your dreams, but have you ever heard the story of Icarus?” Castiel blurts the words. The silence builds between them for a few seconds.

“Nerd.” Dean giggles quietly.

“I do hope you get out of here, though. I hope you take the impala and your brother and see the world….well, the parts of the world within driving distance. If you ever go East, send me a photo. I like trees.” Castiel says.

“Who says I’m not taking you with me.” Dean replies.

Castiel just stares at Dean for awhile longer. He doesn’t know what to say to that. He is downright giddy at the thought of going places with Dean, leaving this town with Dean, just being anywhere Dean is.

He’d also never really thought about what Dean thought of him. They’d just been friends. Two dorks meeting at each other’s lockers and studying for English together.

Maybe they could be more. Maybe Dean would drive him places. Maybe they’d share beds in cheap hotels and take photos of themselves in front of interesting places and things. Castiel wonders if Dean feels the same, pictures the same scenarios.

“What’s this song?” Dean looks at Castiel at that.

“It’s Steam Powered Giraffe, but the song’s almost over.”

“It’s weird, I like it.”

The boys finally look away from each other and sit in silence while that song ends and the next begins. As if on queue, the fireworks show starts with a startling boom and shock of red light.

The flames shower through the sky. The crowd is barely audible over the hills and distance of the country.

Dean intertwines his left hand with Cas’ right under the blanket. Cas takes this opportunity to lean his head on Dean’s shoulder, as he pictured doing so many times. Dean’s calloused thumb brushes gentle lines across Castiel’s knuckles.

Usually, Castiel finds the noise of these shows to be annoying. The crowds suffocate him. However, being out here, alone with Dean under the stars, is the most comfortable place in the world.

The pair looks like dorks. Their smiles broaden with each new display, and the fireworks reflect in their eyes. They can feel each other's warmth between the two small areas of contact.

They are two burning souls, glowing innocently beneath a sky of fire.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The show is only a few minutes long, but at the end, they can hear the cheers from the town.

Dean smiles broadly and leans his head back against the Impala.

Castiel lifts his head off Dean’s shoulder and looks at the side of his face.

Dean licks his lips “Dad never let us do fireworks. They’re too expensive. I guess I’ve always loved the idea of fiery shit shooting at God’s ass.”

Maybe it’s the fireworks or the buried emotion in Dean’s words. No matter the cause, Castiel finally works up the courage to move his body from Dean’s side so he’s sitting in front of the freckled boy’s folded legs. Castiel and Dean look straight into each other’s eyes. Castiel decides to lose this unspoken staring contest as he leans in and presses his closed lips into the corner of Dean’s mouth.

Castiel leans back until his butt rests on his heels, his lands folded politely in front of his crotch. Dean is looking at Castiel, his eyes surprisingly wide and offensively green.

Dean gives the other boy his best Cocky Grin™ before leaning in. He puts his right hand in Castiel’s hair, cupping the back of his skull. The other hand gently grabs Castiel’s neck. The space between them is closed again with hot breaths and hotter touches.

Castiel’s soft lips open slightly as he presses into Dean’s warmth. Castiel instinctively wraps one hand around Dean’s right wrist, feeling the pulse in the soft flesh. His other hand grabs onto the slight dip of Dean’s waist.

Castiel softly licks a small mark on Dean’s lip. Castiel fades into an abyss wet warmth and the slight taste of twizzlers as his tongue rubs softly into Dean’s.

Dean moans quietly and Cas rubs his whole body upward and into Dean’s. Their breathing intensifies as the kiss deepens. Small, low noises are drawn from the back of Castiel’s throat.

Dean has a surge of energy and practically lifts Castiel up. Castiel is shocked by the slight loss of contact between their mouths. Dean lowers Castiel onto the ground and straddles the shorter boy’s hips.

“You’re an angel. I am surprised it took you this long.” Dean practically growls. He is close enough that Castiel can feel the heat of Dean’s breath on his lips.

Castiel’s head cocks to the side as he smiles slightly.

“You’re slow on the uptake.” His voice is practically a purr.

Castiel wraps a leg around Dean’s and flips them over so he is on top of Dean. Immediately Cas is kissing every part of Dean he can find. He starts by moving down his jaw, nibbling a tiny trail down his throat, and pressing soft, wet kisses onto the part of Dean’s collarbone that is exposed by Castiel’s favorite henley. Dean leans his head back to allow Castiel more space.

Castiel is surprisingly gentle. His kisses are soft and slow. He’s far more interested in this soft intimacy than any amount of heated passion.

Dean finds himself rutting against Castiel and letting small moans and gasps escape his throat. When Dean finally manages to rub his clothed erection against Cas’, Castiel’s eyes go wide and he sits back slowly.

Dean sits up quickly and places a gentle hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry….I didn’t…..We can stop. I had fun, and I’d love to do that again, but, if you want to stop, we can.” Dean’s voice is low and soft. His hand rubs gentle circles on Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel is embarrassed, but he never looks away from Dean’s face.

“The kissing’s great, I’m just don’t want any more.” An embarrassed blush spreads through Cas’ ears.

“You’re amazing though and I want to be with you always...it’s just. I don’t….” Castiel looks down at Dean’s chest. Despite his best intentions, the boy can’t help but feel ashamed.

Dean smiles and slides his hand to the base of Castiel’s skull. He places a long, chaste kiss on the older boy’s forehead. Castiel looks positively adorable as he looks at Dean, eyes wide and lips swollen. Castiel, again lays Castiel on his back on the blanket. Only, this time, Dean lays beside him and flops the second duvet over top of the pair.

Castiel wraps his right arm around Dean’s left and intertwines his fingers with the other boy. The CD that Cas made is still quietly playing in the background. Castiel kisses Dean’s knuckles.

“You are very important to me Dean.” It feels like a confession, like a weight lifted from Castiel’s chest.

“You’re weird.” Dean says with a smile creeping across his face for the millionth time that night. “I like you.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So...." Dean fiddles taps his fingers on the steering wheel nervously.

The impala is stopped in front of Castiel's house.

"What are we then?" Dean finally asks, awkwardly.

"Whatever you want to be." Cas offers.

"Well..partners sounds like Cowboys." Dean looks at Castiel. They share silent eye contact for a few moments before Castiel answers.

"How about boyfriends...date mates?...how about you call me Cas and I'll call you Dean and it'll be whatever it is without stupid words or labels."

Castiel offers.

Dean smiles at that.

"You're weird." He places a chaste kiss on Castiel's dry, soft lips.

"I like you." As Dean kisses him for the hundredth time that night, he feels Castiel smile (for the hundredth time as well.)

Castiel spends the rest of his night looking up more songs. He desperately needs to hold on to that feeling: the feeling of flying and falling all at once. The feeling Dean leaves him with.

Dean watches Star Trek reruns alone in the duplex. Sam is absent again. However, Dean's mind is reeling with thoughts of their kisses, Castiel's warmth, and the cute way his mouth curves up when he pronounces the letter "h".

Whatever their awkward situation may be, or turn out to be, is fine with Dean. He's falling for this nerd in the girliest way possible, and it is amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time that we've really seen either boy's sexuality at work.  
> My depictions of Castiel's asexuality are based on my own experience, so they vary quite a bit from many other asexual/grey-ace/demisexual experiences. If you truly want to learn more about the countless variations of asexuality, I recommend AVEN.  
> I'm also more than willing to talk about what knowledge I do have.
> 
> Thanks if you stuck around  
> Sorry/not sorry if you came for sexy bits!


	9. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an autumn breeze, an orgasm, and cuddling.

October 24th is the epitome of a perfect autumn day. The crisp breeze floating into the window wakes Cas. The dark haired boy blinks lazily a few times, his mind adapting to the waking world around him. A warm, freckled mass beneath his right arm snores loudly, once, just enough to remind Castiel of his presence. The older boy smiles, looking down at Dean’s sloppily sleeping form. Dean is on his back, his head tilted to rest in the crook of Cas’ neck and shoulder. Castiel is on his stomach with part of his chest and right arm over Dean’s chest.

They'd been together most of the time since the fireworks. Cas often went to work with Dean, helping him study when it was slow. Dean took to following Castiel home where they talked about silly things and ate too much junk food.

Dean had stayed over the night before. It had something to do with a fight with Sam. Castiel chose not to ask too many dumb questions. The pair had talked and watched some weird show Dean likes. They then cozied up in Castiel’s bed to share lazy kisses and dumb stories and silly ideas. 

“Your parents weren’t so dumb with angel names.” Dean said as he slid into sleep the night before. Castiel hadn’t quite understood it at the time, and the memory of the thought still puzzled him.

Cas slides his body over Dean’s as much as he can without disturbing the other boy.

It’s a school day. It doesn’t feel like a school day. Castiel decides that it’s probably a good idea to prevent the both of them from being too late. He places soft, gentle kisses on the soft skin of Dean’s chest and neck.

Dean wakes up with a slight groan.

“Good morning.” He growls.

As if on cue, the pair sit up and settle on their sides, facing each other. Castiel smiles at the endearing way Dean’s hair sticks up all over.

“Happy Birthday.” Dean says, yawning to accentuate his point.

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel says. He likes that he can stare at Dean, say his name, share his space.

“I’ll make coffee.” Dean slides out of bed, picking his shirt off the ground and slipping it on over his shoulders.

Castiel doesn’t understand why Dean sleeps shirtless in cold weather. Castiel always sleeps in a shirt and sweats. However, he appreciates Dean’s pride in his own body. He loves the soft curves of his shoulders and the slight pooch of his tummy.

The pair pad downstairs. As Dean preps the coffee mate, Castiel leans against the counter and yawns.

“What do you want to do for your birthday?” Dean asks. His voice is still low from sleep.

“To go back to bed.” Cas grumbles.

“It’s homecoming. What about the dance? You can’t go if you skip school.” Dean asks, already predicting Cas’ apathy toward sports.

“Fuck the dance.” The older boy grumbles.

Dean smiles, pours coffee into Castiel’s favorite, plain mug. He grabs Castiel’s hand with the non-coffee holding hand,and leads him back into Castiel’s room.

Dean sets the coffee on the floor next to the bed before sliding into the unmade bed first. Castiel settles next to him. Dean settles on his back and Castiel resumes his position on top of him.

Both boys drift seamlessly into sleep.

Castiel wakes some time later to soft kisses being spread over his jaw. Cas smiles at the contact.

“Good morning...again.” Dean whispers the words millimeters from Cas’ lips. Castiel lifts his head to close the gap, and kisses Dean quickly and chastly.

They had spent the past week getting more comfortable with this, this intimate contact. They hadn’t explicitly talked about the first night, about each other’s limits or needs. These thoughts run through Castiel’s mind as Dean stares at his blank face. As if he is reading Castiel’s mind, Dean speaks up.

“Wanna talk about this.” He asks, slightly awkwardly.

“What is there to talk about?” Castiel replies, attempting to sound relaxed.

“I just don’t want to do anything you’re not into or make you feel like you have to do this.” Dean says, sitting up, allowing Cas to do the same.

Cas looks down and realizes that Dean is sporting a fairly obvious erection. He elects to ignore it.

“I like kissing.” Castiel says, hoping his answer isn’t stupid.

“Okay.” Dean encourages.

“I guess I don’t want much more than that.” He glances at Dean’s crotch. “Sorry if that’s….boring.” He looks down at his hands.

“Okay. Do you think it’s gross or just...boring.” Dean looks at Castiel warmly, trying to make the conversation more comfortable for him.

“Unnecessary.” Castiel replies dryly. He musters up the courage to look into Dean’s inviting eyes.

“Okay.” Dean says again, he leans forward and kisses Castiel chastly on the lips as if to seal the deal.

“What about you?” Castiel asks after they separate, wanting this to be fair.

“I like sex, but I also like you, so whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I could watch you.” Castiel states dryly. Since that night, Castiel had used some ill-fated google searches to figure out what this all means. ‘Watching’ seemed to be the least invasive and popular scenario. He honestly has no idea how this will actually go, but Dean is obviously interested, and Castiel desperately wants Dean to feel satisfied with this...relationship...or whatever they’re calling it.

Despite Castiel’s casual nature, Dean’s eyes darken, and he can feel his softening cock begin to harden.

“If you’re sure?” Dean tries and fails desperately not to let his eagerness leak into his voice.

Castiel replies with a smirk and an open mouth kiss on Dean’s jaw. Dean closes his eyes and relaxes, electrical impulses shooting up and down his body from the single point of contact. Castiel kisses a wet line down Dean’s neck to his collarbone.

Dean opens his mouth to ask where the hell Cas learned to do this, but Castiel’s fingers tracing the bottom of his shirt shut him up.

Dean moves his hands down and helps Castiel lift the soft shirt over his head. As soon as it’s off, Dean closes the distance between them, opening his lips over Castiel’s.

Castiel smiles against Dean lips. He loves being here, with Dean. He loves Dean’s enjoyment.

“Lay on your back.” Castiel says, deciding on how he’s going to go about this.

Dean reluctantly parts with Castiel, leaning back onto the bed with his weight on his elbows.

Dean’s reluctance grows as Castiel sits there awkwardly, looking down at Dean.

Finally, Castiel leans down to kiss Dean again, shifting his hips to the side of Dean’s.

“Can I…?” Dean asks, his breath his hot and heavy against Castiel’s kissed-pink lips.

“Mpphhhhh.” If Castiel had a coherent reply, it is muffled in Dean’s mouth.

Dean slides his right hand down his boxers, holding Castiel against him with his left. He teases his slit with his thumb, imagining it’s Castiel holding his cock. Once he can’t take the teasing any longer, Dean brings his hand up to his mouth, and unceremoniously spits into the palm.

Castiel, remembering his research, grabs Dean’s wrist and does the same, adding to the small puddle of last-minute lube in Dean’s palm.

Dean grabs his cock firmly as the base, letting the sounds and images of Castiel flood his senses and fill-in his imagination.

Castiel moves his lips down Dean’s collarbone and to his chest, where he focuses on the feel of Dean’s soft muscles under his lips.

Dean releases a particularly loud groan as he quickens the pace of his hand on his cock. His body twitches up toward his fist, causing Castiel to bump his face, unceremoniously into Dean’s chest. With a nervous giggle, Castiel gets back to work. He splays one hand out on Dean’s chest, a finger brushing Dean’s perky nipple.

Dean’s desperate now. He hisses at Castiel’s movements over his chest. Castiel throws one leg over Dean’s body, so he’s straddling Dean’s torso, just above his throbbing cock and pumping fist.

Dean grows at the feel of Cas’ firm ass on his body. With a small pang of embarrassment, the blond continues pumping his cock erratically, letting his thumb occasionally tease the slit.

Castiel leans down, placing one hand on Dean’s firm shoulder, and supporting his weight with an elbow next to Dean’s head.

Castiel is wrapped around Dean now. To the point that he can smell the musk in Dean’s hair and feel his hot, heaving breaths on his skin. Castiel’s neck and  face prickle where the heat from Dean’s mouth hits his exposed skin.

Castiel leans down and engages Dean in a steamy kiss. Cas’ tongue is filthy as it tastes and teases Dean’s.

The kiss, the contact, Cas is enough for Dean. With a final spasm of his hips and a loud moan, Dean is coming into his fist and onto Cas’ still-clothed ass. Red and white flashes dance behind his eye-lids as he comes down off the orgasm. Dean is still lazily fisting his softening cock, and Castiel’s kisses have morphed into gentle pecks across Dean’s cheekbones.

Dean lays boneless on his back. Castiel chastly kisses his sweat-glistening freckles.

“So.” Dean pants, “How was that.”

Castiel smiles softly, marveling at the creation laying beneath him.

“Unnecessary, but okay.” Without a word, Castiel rolls off of Dean. He pulls the come-soaked pajamas off, revealing the simple grey boxers underneath. The pajamas get tossed lazily to the side, and Castiel lays on his side next to Dean. Dean's a little surprised that Castiel isn't even half-hard, but chooses not to say anything.

Dean rolls over to look at Castiel, too blissed out and tired to be self-conscious about his nakedness.

“Are you a fitness nut? Your ass is like marble.” Dean teases.

“You know I like running, Dean.” Castiel states, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re so weird.” Dean pulls Castiel close to him. His still-sweaty face lands gently in the folds of Castiel’s shirt.

“Iff liffee fyouuff.” He grumbles into the soft cotton.

Castiel smiles, he lazily tousles Dean’s hair with his finger.

They spend the day like this, laying in Castiel’s bed. Occasionally they get up to get some food. By noon Castiel re-discovers the now-cold coffee Dean made him. Castiel decides to wash the comed on sheets and pajamas so Anna won't have to.

"What are you doing for your birthday?" Dean asks casually as Castiel does the laundry. Despite Dean's faux-pouting, Cas had made hims put on pants.

"This." Castiel answers dryly.

"Come on! You're 18! You should be getting tattoos and staying out late!" Dean teases.

"If you want to take me out and buy me a tattoo, I'd oblidge." He replies, not  really thinking too hard on his answer.

"You know what, that settles it." Castiel shuts the washing machine and turns to face Dean, "I am taking you to Lawrence next Friday. There's a pretty good haunted house there, Ash does good tattoos, and you need to get out of town." Dean smiles in pride at his plan.

"I'll have to ask Anna..." Dean cuts him off with a chaste kiss on the lips. 

After they separate, Dean grabs Castiel's hand and leads him to the sofa, where they lay together and talk about tattoos and the time Sam was chased around a haunted house when he was 12. 

It’s a perfect birthday. The two boys relax together, melting perfectly into lazy bliss.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was SUPER busy with stuff and things, so this update's a bit late.

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters (as far as I can see) are all song titles!  
> I love fanmixes and an excuse to squeeze music in wherever I can.  
> Updates may be sporadic, but I am hoping to release chapters in real time to the school-term. (First weeks of school release in August, Halloween on Halloween, etc.)
> 
> Comments, suggestions, kudos, and other forms of communication are VERY much appreciated.  
> Thanks!


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